This my story of being an American in Montana and my pursuit of Muscles, Wisdom and other random shit along the way.

You Are My Facebook Friend And I Think I Hate You!

So I am pretty sure I have “Self-Triggered” myself over the implied meaning behind your last Facebook post. Therefore I have written this ridiculous post as a response, tagging you, so that your spouse, your drama loving friends, your boss and anyone else who would bother taking the time to read random Facebook responses of more than ten words will all be briefed on the fact that I am extremely pissed off by what I think might be the implied meaning behind your last Facebook post.

I will admit that with everything that is going on in our country I have been looking for any reason to target someone on social media and unleash holy hell on them, even at times going to the point of egging people on by calling them Commies and Un-American pieces of shit, in hopes of causing them to unleash a Leftist diatribe on me, that way I would look justified for going off on them. Again, I blame this current unstable thinking of mine on the potent combination of adverse weather; the current state of American politics; and the plot twists in this season of Game of Thrones. Nevertheless, because it is out of my power to change any of those, I have chosen to assume that your last Facebook post has a hidden implied meaning and therefore place my anger squarely on your shoulders my Facebook “Friend.”

In fact, even though we have known each other since our days in High School, I hereby disown you entirely. Later today, after I have read all of the responses that our mutual friend Tonya will post to this tirade, and pose a few rhetorical questions and logical fallacies in response, I will destroy all reminders that our lives have ever intersected in any way. If this means burning my copy of our high school senior yearbook, changing my son’s middle name, and serving our parish priest with a cease-and-desist order so that he no longer asks me how you are, so be it. What I think you may have implied in your post is more upsetting than doing all of these things. You Sir, are dead to me.

The depth and vigor of my response may be surprising to you, especially since I have entirely and completely misinterpreted what you wrote, failing to grasp the tone, substance, and point of your post. Yet I hope you will understand that in these trying times, it is extremely important…nay, it is of utmost importance! That I be allowed to jump wildly to a conclusion that is not supported by the facts in any way. Further, instead of being abashed by Tonya’s replies, which will point out that I am “completely wrong” and possibly “did not read the status the whole way through” and might even be “in need of some serious downtime, like, get offline, friend-o,” I intend to use them as further proof that everyone is against me in every way and that I have nothing in common with any other human being on this planet. I will then post a meme quoting the great Abraham Lincoln.

That I will try to connect your post to my growing concern about my ability to protect my children’s health and well-being (emotional, mental, and physical) must be allowed without comment, at least if you hope that we can ever be friends again … which we cannot, at least until a year goes by, and Facebook shows me this posting as a memory. Then, I’ll re-read your original status, and it will make me chuckle, because now I will finally get the joke, and then I’ll realize, Oh, Lordy, I completely got the whole thing wrong last year, and I’ll wonder how I could have ostracized one of my oldest and dearest friends even to the point of burning my National Honor Society pin because we were inducted together in our junior year (and which, by the way, was not easily set on fire, so it ended up burning me pretty badly on my right finger in a way that still hurts from time to time). Full of remorse, I will reach out to you to say I’m sorry, and you’ll be like, “Well, everyone was crazy at that time because of the president,” and I’ll say, “I’m uncomfortable with you using the adjective ‘crazy’ so cavalierly,” and you’ll say, “But seriously, weren’t you crazy?” I will really want to push the point about the importance of thoughtful language choices, but I won’t. I’ll decide to just let it go, and we’ll grab a beer at Village Inn Pizza just like we used to and things will almost be back to normal because a relationship based on trust and loyalty can withstand even my needing to unleash holy hell so badly I kinda deliberately misunderstood your harmless Facebook post.

But! In the meantime, we’re all stuck here in this miserable cesspool that is the current epoch in American history, so I’ll conclude this onslaught by saying that I have never been so outraged as I am by my partial reading of your post and I wish you ill, based on the extreme hurt you have not actually caused me, but which I caused myself by wildly misunderstanding your post.

In conclusion, I’d also like to take this opportunity to blame your Facebook post for the fact that I will be a little brusque with my children tonight, and that I’ll be upping the stakes on my commute to the gym by driving 5 miles over the speed limit, because I already suspect, as I near the end of this tirade, that writing this is actually not going to make me feel better in any way at all.

Now that I am done, I see that it did not. I blame you…Honestly, you are a horrible friend.